Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Standing in a dark room,
I looked at her as she read,
With glowing eyes behind her specs,
Her iris moved gradually, from word to word,
And left to right without even looking up.

Reclined on the couch with a book in one hand,
She bit her nails off the other hand.
Her shadow painted a silhouette on the old stone wall,
And her streaks of hair glistened like the sun’s rays during fall,
It flowed down her shoulders and almost touched the floor.

Gently, with her finger she pushed her glasses up.
That slid down like an avalanche from the mountain top.
Turning around she reached for her tea cup,
And took a sip followed by a puff on the surface of the cup.
The vapour fogged her glasses as she took a sip,
But she closed her eyes as she enjoyed every bit.

I stood there gleaming without moving either side,
When a cold draft shook me off my feet,
That’s when she looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes.
And put the book away and rushed to my rescue.
She cupped my face caringly and looked towards the door.

Closing the door she walked back and slipped into the couch.
Started reading once again from the page where she had left.
I jumped and glowed brightly.
My happiness knew no bound.
I just stretched high as though I could reach the sky.

Nobody could have stopped me,
Until and unless it was none other than me;
My face just shone brighter than ever.
I was blazing with joy from deep inside,
And I was literally melting as I knew it was irreversible.

I could almost feel myself melt and shrink really slow.
But I just couldn’t take my eyes off.
For I was imprisoned as her admirer,
And her admirer forever I’ll be.
Trying not to lift my gaze of her till eternity.

That’s when she again looked at me a lil worriedly.
And walked towards me unhurriedly and stood beside me.
Without looking elsewhere she looked down upon me,
It seemed as though this moment would last for time without end,
Just then she reached for another candle that took my place.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Looking at those tresses flowing down your shoulders,It reminds me of those brooks flowing from the hills, Rushing all the way through the green pastures.As you gaze through those deep, dark, weary eyes I see phrases, which speak about the day you left behind. The smile you just sparked up even when you were tiredShows how you're concerned to spread it like a forest fire.Be it a gloomy day where the sun has forgotten its path.I'm sure you'll be there just to watch the sun go green in envy. Now as I keep gazing at your picture I can just go on and on.Cos words aren't something I would google for anytime.It's my sincere concern not to leave you sleepless anymore.

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Amit Charles B. aka Scribbler is an authentic Bangalorean (since 1982), who found and got hitched to his Muse recently. He now owns a scribble pad, a camera, a casual wardrobe and a detuned guitar with corroding strings.
And those of you who are interested in my work rather than my Apollo 13-attempt-at-a-funny- bio, flip the pages of my Scribble Pad.